Starry Night
by chocolatequeen
Summary: Today was a day when everyone lived, and as the Doctor danced with Rose Tyler, he wondered if he dared press his luck just a little bit further... Prequel to Just Love Me, first story in Glimpses of a Different Life.


6\. things you said under the stars and in the grass

The Doctor took another turn around the console with Rose in his arms. Jack had long since gone to bed, having gotten the message that the Doctor wanted Rose to himself tonight. And now, looking down at her…

"I want to take you somewhere," he said abruptly.

The familiar excitement lit up her eyes. "Yeah? Where?"

"S'called Woman Wept. It's a beautiful place… I think you'd like it."

"Well, let me wake up Captain Jack while you set the coordinates," Rose said.

The Doctor held onto her hand when she would have walked away. "No Jack, not tonight. Just you and me." Rose looked at him, and he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. "That all right?"

A shy smile spread across her face. "Yeah, that's all right."

The Doctor returned her smile. "Good." He looked down at her, still wearing the Union Jack t-shirt. "You ah… you might want to go get a coat from the wardrobe room, though. It's a bit chilly, this place." Rose nodded, then to his utter astonishment, she pressed a kiss to his cheek on her way out of the console room.

His ears were hot and he knew he was wearing a daft grin, but he didn't care. Until Rose's rather broad hints in the hospital, he'd refused to let himself believe she saw him as anything more than a friend. But the flirtatious challenge in her voice when she'd asked him to show her his moves had given him hope.

His fingers moved quickly over the console, adjusting the navigation controls. _Cooperate with me tonight, old girl,_ he pleaded with his ship. The meaning behind her amused hum shocked him—she had no intention of messing with his plans, now that he was finally going to tell Rose how he felt.

Rose returned before he could question the TARDIS, wearing a bright red parka with a faux fur lined hood that went down to her thigh. "This is what she had for me to wear; is it okay?"

The Doctor smiled and threw the dematerialisation lever. "It's perfect," he assured her. The casual way she talked about communicating with his ship warmed his hearts—she'd certainly changed since the days when she'd been so upset by the telepathic translation matrix.

The landing was soft, and the Doctor patted the console in thanks. "Let me go out first," he told Rose. "Some spots on this planet aren't the safest. I think we're okay, but…" She smiled and nodded, and he jogged down the ramp.

Once outside, he took a few tentative steps to make sure he'd landed exactly where he wanted. The sky above was crystal clear, millions of stars shining on the inky backdrop. And spread out in front of him was the very thing he'd brought Rose here to show her.

"Is it okay?" Rose called from the doorway.

He turned around and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her standing in the entrance to their home, with all the light of the console room pouring out around her. The image tickled at his time senses, but he resolutely pushed it away. It never did anyone any good to know their future… or their friends' futures.

"Yep, we're good."

Rose wasn't at all sure what to expect in this surprise stop, but when she exited the TARDIS, she sucked in a breath. They were parked on a narrow beach, and beyond the shoreline, the waves were frozen in a masterpiece of peaks and troughs.

"So this is Woman Wept?" she whispered, entranced by the way the moonlight reflected off the icy waves.

"Yep. They call it that because from orbit, the single continent looks like a woman crying."

He took her hand, and she leaned against his arm slightly, smiling when his voice faltered just for a moment.

"And—and this is the Sea of Ondo. Ages ago, a cataclysm hit this planet and the waves froze in an instant."

"S'beautiful." Rose's gaze shifted up to the sky. "So where's Earth from here?" she asked.

That had become their regular question. It was the way the Doctor was teaching Rose the geography of the universe. On every planet they visited, he would point out the Sol system, and maybe one or two others they'd been to recently.

The Doctor took a breath and wrapped his right arm around her shoulder, then pointed up into the sky. "About 200 light years thataway," he murmured, as close to whispering in her ear as he dared.

Rose shivered beneath him, and his hearts soared.

"Th—that way?" she stammered.

"Yep."

But the Doctor wasn't looking at the stars any more. His eyes were focused on the woman practically standing in his arms. "Rose."

She turned her head, and he was close enough that his lips dragged along her jaw as she moved. Her reaction to the accidental caress—the hitch in her breathing and the sudden increase of pheromones he could smell on her—sent his hearts soaring.

But it was the way her eyes darted down to his mouth as she licked her lips that made him finally toss all his rules out the window. He groaned softly, then crossed the last few centimetres between them and pressed his lips to hers.

For just a heartbeat, she remained frozen and he wondered if he'd read her wrong. Then she melted into him, with one hand grasping the lapel of his jacket and the other wrapped around his waist, and his hearts beat in double time.

He brought his hands up to cup her face delicately, trying to keep the kiss as tender as possible. Rose's little sigh against his lips tested his control, but he satisfied himself with sucking her lower lip between his, rather than ravishing her as every instinct in his body insisted he do.

There were things they needed to talk about—what this meant, his need to take things slowly—but right now he had Rose Tyler in his arms. Talking could wait.


End file.
